Things You Do For Love
by AstrophobicChick
Summary: Sherlock and John's stag do. Fluff. Johnlock. AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Um, I apologise in advance for this. I'm bored and feeling down so wanted to write something with a bit of humor in it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except this weird plot :)

This was it, the last day of freedom. Sherlock paced the floor of 221B Baker Street, trying hard not to look at the "package" on the sofa. This was all John's fault; It'll be fun, Sherlock, he said, just let your hair down. Sherlock _never _let his hair down. He walked over to the sofa and picked up the package, shaking it slightly as he did so. He could guess what was inside, he just couldn't physically bring himself to open it.

"You are wearing it, Sherlock. I chose it specifically for you."

Sherlock looked around and saw John stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and a small grin on his face. He eyed the package with amusement and was relieved when Sherlock, with a begrudging sigh, started to open it.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he pulled out something pink and fluffy, and was horrified when he realised what it was. Fairy wings. He looked back at John, who was now trying very hard to keep a straight - ish - face.

"You chose fairy wings for me," he said, dropping the wings onto a table and looking daggers at John. If looks could kill, John thought. Well, he would of been a dead man long ago.

"There's more," John replied, motioning to the package.

Sherlock shot him a look of "you'll pay for this later", before returning to the package. He put one slender hand in and pulled out something sharp and glittery. He turned it over in his hands, his eyes slowly turning to slits.

"It's a tiara," John said happily, "To go with the wings"

It was a good thing John had fast reflexes for the tiara suddenly flew towards his face, and had he not ducked in time, would of taken out one - if not both - of his eyes. He bent down and picked it up, before walking over to Sherlock and placing it on top of the black curls.

"Suits you," he smiled.

"John," Sherlock said slowly, "This is a stag do, so why am I going dressed as a fairy?"

"Because it's _our _stag do, and you said I could decide on a theme."

Sherlock was really starting to regret this.

"I thought you, being an army doctor, would choose something more - ah masculine"

John grinned, "Fraid not."

Sherlock gave a sigh of defeat, "Only this once, and only for you. Speaking of you, what are you wearing?"

John tapped him on the nose, "It's a secret. You'll see later"

* * *

At 7pm, John emerged from his bedroom and made his way over to Sherlock, who was currently sat on the sofa, four nicotine patches on his arm. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be muttering something to himself.

John stood infront of him and waited. Slowly, Sherlock stopped muttering and opened his eyes. He caught sight of John and seemed to do a double take.

"What, what are you meant to be?" he asked, his eyes roaming over John's body.

John did a little spin, and said, "It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Not to me"

"Wow, the great Sherlock Holmes not knowing what I am. Almost as bad as not knowing that the Earth orbits the Sun," John grinned. He was the only one who could tease Sherlock and get away with it.

"Well?"

John gave a dramatic sigh, "I'm a hedgehog!"

Sherlock stared at him blankly.

"You _do_ know what a hedgehog is, don't you?" John asked curiously.

"Of course I do! Isn't it time to go?" Sherlock replied, his cheeks reddening slightly.

* * *

Sherlock didn't know what was going to happen tonight. He left the entire thing in the hands of John. _What was he thinking? _Truth is, he didn't really think a lot around John, and he would always let him get his own way. Well _nearly _always.

He watched as John hailed a cab, and then climbed in after the doctor.

"Where are we going?" He asked, curiousity getting the better of him.

"Scotland Yard," John replied, taking Sherlock's hand in his, "Relax"

"Why Scotland Yard?"

"Well, we need to meet a few people, and then we can go," John smiled.

"A few people? Who?"

"Sherlock relax! It'll be fun, trust me"

* * *

Reaching Scotland Yard, John got out of the cab and pulled Sherlock along behind him. A group of people were milling about outside and John made his way over to them.

"Sherlock, what are you wearing?"

Sherlock spun round and saw Lestrade stood near a minibus, wearing a pirates costume. He looked Sherlock up and down and couldn't help but grin.

"How did you manage to get him into that, John?" he muttered, impressed.

Sherlock cleared his throat and looked around, "Are we ready?"

"Just waiting for Anderson," Lestrade said, motioning back at the building.

Sherlock rounded on John, "You invited _Anderson?_"

"I had no choice. He overheard me inviting Lestrade, and I couldn't then say no"

Sherlock cocked one eyebrow, "Yeah you could - " he broke off as Anderson walked over to them.

Both men eyed eachother up and down, and then:

"What are you wearing?" they said in unison.

Both of them were wearing fairy wings, except Anderson's were purple and fluffy instead of pink. They also had matching tiaras. Lestrade and John couldn't help but laugh at the sight before them.

"You always have to out do me," Anderson said with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, because this is what I really want to wear out in public. This isn't exactly my first choice of costume," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"It's mine." Anderson said, slightly offended.

"Figures," Sherlock smirked, "John, are we ready now?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't know how long this will be. It was only meant to be two parts but we'll see where it goes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

They reached the mini bus and Sherlock slid in beside John, with Lestrade climbing into the drivers seat. Anderson got in beside him, with Donovan on his other side. She was dressed as a nurse and Anderson had a hard job taking his eyes off of her. Sherlock snorted at him and turned towards John.

"Where are we going?"

"Pub crawl," John replied, smiling.

The mini bus started and Lestrade slowly pulled out of Scotland Yard, whilst singing some cheesy song.

"I don't _do _pub crawls," Sherlock whispered, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"You do tonight, come on, it'll be fun."

Sherlock sighed and pulled out his phone. It was only half seven, still plently of time for this night to get worse. He was about to put it away when it buzzed, and he looked down to see a text from Mycroft.

"He's wondering why you didn't invite him," he said to John, whilst typing a reply.

"How does he - Oh never mind, what did you say?"

"That he's welcome to come along," Sherlock said, staring out of the window now.

"He doesn't know where we are though," John muttered, leaning into Sherlock so that he could be heard over Lestrade's singing.

"His car is trailing us now," Sherlock smirked, flicking his head towards the back window.

John struggled to turn around, and could just make out the famous sleek black car following close behind them.

"Typical Mycroft, of course he wouldn't miss his younger brother's stag do."

* * *

Lestrade pulled into a small car park, parked the mini bus and got out. Sherlock knew where they were, he just didn't know _why _they were here. The nearest pub had to be a mile away.

"What are we doing here?" he asked Lestrade, who was busy sorting out a ticket.

"Well, we can't drive to central London on a Saturday night, can we? Besides, it's your stag do. People are meant to see you looking.. more human," he finished lamely. Even with fairy wings and a tiara, Sherlock didn't look human.

"So, we're walking?"

"Yup, but cheer up, I got a surprise for you," Lestrade said, smiling. He handed some money to Anderson to get a ticket and then made his way to the back of the mini bus, motioning for Sherlock to follow him.

Sherlock sighed and followed Lestrade. He watched as the detective opened the back doors and pulled out a crate of small glass cups, each filled with a different coloured liquid.

"What are these?"

"Special shots, one for each of us." Lestrade grinned, carrying the crate over to the others.

Just then the black car pulled in, and Mycroft climbed out, umbrella in tow. Mycroft wasn't dressed up, but that didn't surprise Sherlock. If he had his way, he wouldn't be dressed up either.

He turned back to Lestrade, "what's so special about these shots?"

"Well, they're new see? They give the drinker a special effect." Lestrade explained, giving a glass to each person.

"Special effect?" Sherlock said, looking sceptical.

"You'll see. John, come over here."

John strutted over, holding two glasses in his hands. He grinned at Sherlock and held out one of the glasses.

"Why don't I trust any of you?" Sherlock murmured, taking the glass from John.

John just shrugged, "On three. One. Two. Three" and with that he, and everyone else downed the shots. Sherlock glanced at them all one last time before copying.

There was silence for a moment, and then Anderson threw up, before falling to the floor. Donovan followed closely behind him, and then John and then Lestrade. Both Sherlock and Mycroft stood watching them, a bemused expression on their face.

"What the heck?" Mycroft said, his eyebrows furrowed.

Sherlock shook his head slightly, before kneeling next to John, who was now giggling feebly.

"Lestrade," John cried, "Whatever you put in those was bloody brilliant."

Lestrade grinned back, and pulled himself into a sitting position. "I told you they'd be good," he said, now attempting to stand up, using Anderson's head as a support post.

Mycroft picked up the packaging and scowled slightly as he read the information, "There's enough alcohol in those to knock somebody out," he said to Sherlock.

"Then why hasn't it affected us?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know."

A moment later and John stood up, perfectly fine. "They're special shots. Give you an instant hit, but leaves a few moments later." he explained.

Donovan, Anderson and Lestrade looked normal again as well. "Guess you two aren't human enough to get affected," Lestrade said, heading towards the street.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock called after him.

"To the pubs? Come on, we're only just getting started."

* * *

They walked through the streets of London chatting amongst themselves. Several people stared at them, a few wolf whistled at Lestrade, and even more laughed at Sherlock and Anderson.

"How much further?" Sherlock asked grumpily. He didn't like being seen like this, especially after a young girl and her boyfriend thought he and Anderson were gay with each other. Sherlock had to restrain himself from strangling both of them with his fairy wings.

He walked over to John, who was chatting with Lestrade, and linked his hand with the doctors. John squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. Sherlock didn't return the smile. He didn't want to be here, especially with the others, he'd rather just be at home, with John. The two of them, how it should be.

He saw John's smile slip, and felt instantly guilty. This was John's idea, and he was ruining it. He squeezed John's hand, and gave him a small smile. If this is what made John happy then so be it. His stomach fluttered slightly as John beamed back at him.

They reached a small queue of people, and Sherlock was surprised when Lestrade joined the end. This wasn't a pub, this was a night club, which meant dancing. Something Sherlock definitely didn't do.

"We're going in here?"

Lestrade nodded, and motioned towards a largish group of people. All girls. All of them wearing banners, and tiaras and other things that made Sherlock feel slightly sick. Now he knew why Lestrade wanted to stay here. He sighed and wrapped his arms around John, ignoring the groans coming from Donovan and Anderson. Mycroft stood to one side looking slightly uncomfortable, and Sherlock felt his mood lighten slightly. Both of them looked so out of place, it was comical.

Eventually the line went down and they were let inside. Sherlock almost passed out from the sound and the smell of the place. Everything was so loud, and the music - if you could call it that - was starting to give him a headache. He felt someone nudge him from behind and turned to see John glaring at him impatiently.

"You're blocking the way," He said, pushing Sherlock forward.

Sherlock allowed himself to be pushed further into the room and felt his fight or flight instinct kick in. He spun round and bolted for the door. Once outside his head began to clear again, and he felt his heartbeat slow down.

"You too, huh?"

Mycroft stood next to him and pulled out a cigarette, before lighting it and taking a deep drag. He held the box out to Sherlock.

"You're going to need it," he said, closing his eyes.

Sherlock took one, and lit it. "How can people like places like this?" he muttered, feeling slightly more relaxed now that he was outside.

"I guess it's a release for them. Like drugs were for you." Mycroft said, watching Sherlock carefully.

"I'll take the drugs, thanks." Sherlock sighed, he really didn't want to go back inside.

"You must really love John. The old you wouldn't do this," Mycroft smiled.

Sherlock turned back towards the door, "Guess I have to go back inside. John is probably missing me."

Mycroft just nodded.

"You coming?" Sherlock asked, smirking slightly.

"In a minute, I think I need a few more cigarettes first."

* * *

Sherlock made his way back inside, and straight away the sound and smell hit him again. He felt his heart starting to beat faster again, and felt his chest tighten. He needed to find John, and he needed to find him now.

He moved further into the room, and could see Anderson and Donovan making out in one corner. His head was starting to pound, and he quickened his pace, which was hard in a place like this. It was so busy that he could barely move two paces before someone stepped in his way.

Finally he made his way towards the dance floor and felt his heart drop as he saw John dancing with some girl. Her eyes were closed and her head was resting on his shoulder.

He backed up and turned towards the door, he knew John had spotted him, but he didn't care. He just had to get out of this place, and fast.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock heard John behind him trying to keep up, but was too angry to slow down or reply.

"Sherlock, wait. Come on!"

Instead of waiting, Sherlock ran faster down the street, turning this way and that. He ignored all the strange looks he was getting, instead concentrating on his breathing. breathing, since when did he care about breathing? It was dull, after all.

"Sherlock, for gods sake! Don't make me run in a hedgehog costume. Ow!"

Sherlock slowed a little, and turned his head to see John lying flat on his back behind him.

He waited for a second, checking to make sure John was ok, before moving off again.

"Sherlock, you're being stupid. Totally stupid, now slow down, please?"

John was catching up now, and it unnerved Sherlock. The doctor truly could run when he wanted too. He was just about to start running again when something bowled into him, knocking him to the floor.

He smashed his head on the concrete, causing stars to dance around his vision, and let out a groan.

"Sherlock, I am _so_ sorry. I don't realise my strength sometimes. Are you ok?"

John was currently sat on Sherlock's chest, watching the consulting detective with worry.

"Get off," Sherlock croaked.

John climbed off of him, allowing Sherlock to move into a sitting position.

"I had to stop you, and it was either that or shoot you." John smiled.

Sherlock shook his head, willing the stars to disappear. If John ruined his brain - well, there would be hell to pay. Finally the stars faded and he managed to look up at the doctor.

"Why are you here?" he said.

"I saw you, and I knew you'd get the wrong idea, and then I saw you running and followed."

"Wrong idea? I know what I saw, John."

"It's our stag do, and you had run off outside. I wanted to enjoy myself, so I just danced. Alone. And then she took pity on me. I was telling her about you the whole time." John sighed, shivering slightly.

Sherlock stared at him silently.

"Sherlock, you can tell if someone is lying. Am I lying?"

Slowly, Sherlock shook his head, "No."

"Well then, why would I look at her when I have someone like you?" John said, pulling Sherlock to his feet.

"Because it took you ages to realise your feelings for me, and because she would be just your type."

John laughed, "One, I was stupid. Two, you're my type. Three, shut up and kiss me."

Sherlock opened his mouth to reply but John was too quick, he had already pushed Sherlock against the wall and was now leaning in to kiss him.

"Guys, get a room. You can do that later, we haven't even started yet."

Sherlock turned to see Anderson, Donovan and Mycroft standing in the alleyway watching them. Donovan elbowed Anderson in the side, and rolled her eyes.

"What was that for?" he cried.

"They were about to kiss, and you totally ruined the mood!"

"I ruined it? We're stood in a dingy alleyway, it's hardly romantic." Anderson sniffed.

"Still.."

"You just wanted to watch them make out, didn't you?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes, twirling his umbrella around. "Are we going to enjoy tonight or not?"

Sherlock looked at John and smiled, "Yes, lets go"

They made their way back to the club, and Sherlock turned to Anderson.

"You're one to talk, I saw you and Sally snogging in the corner." he smirked.

"Well, he has to practice somewhere," Donovan replied, "Kissing his plushie dinosaurs only gives you so much experience."

"Oi!"

"I'm joking," Sherlock smiled, before turning back to John. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

John grabbed his hand and squeezed it, "Forget it, let's enjoy ourselves."

"I do NOT need practice, look!" and before anyone could do anything, Anderson pulled Sherlock towards him, and kissed him full on the lips.

Silence fell upon them, with Donovan half laughing - half looking scared, and then John pushed Anderson away.

"Oi, he's mine, ok?"

Sherlock was frozen to the spot, his eyes wide with surprise, "Anderson, warn me before you do that again."

"Well, do I need practice?"

"Um," Sherlock started walking again, "I need to wash my mouth. With acid."

"Humph."

* * *

Reaching the club they saw Lestrade standing outside looking annoyed. He caught sight of them and hurried over.

"Where did you lot go? And what's wrong with you, Sherlock?"

"John and Sherlock had a little domestic, but it's sorted now," Donovan replied, "Where's your lady friend?"

Lestrade bit his lip, "She wasn't a lady - let's leave it at that."

"Don't worry, you're not the only one to be kissed by a man tonight," Donovan grinned, eyeing Sherlock with amusement.

"Yeah but Sherlock's gay, and enjoys being kissed by John," Lestrade muttered.

"It wasn't John who kissed him."

"Then who was it?"

Donovan motioned to Anderson and smiled.

"Humph."

A/n: Sorry, I had to cut it short due to being ill. :( I'll give you an extra long chapter next time. :)


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